Saturday, November 24, 2012

38 Weeks: The Sixth Week

During the sixth week, after Mike and Fi had gone home from
Sunday dinner at Maddie's house early—both of them claiming to be
tired—Madeline looked at Sam and Jesse and said, "So, is she pregnant and
they aren't saying anything, or do they really not know, yet?"

Sam laughed. Elsa was right. "Maddie, did you hear any
screaming coming from their home lately?"

"No."

"Blue Screen of Death face on Mike?"

"What?" Madeline didn't get the reference, and
Jesse was looking at Sam like he can't believe Sam knew what it meant.

"I do read, you know," Sam says to Jesse before
explaining to Maddie, "You know, when he gets that look that tells you his
brain has entirely shut down and he's just standing there trying to get it
started again?"

"Nope." Madeline said. Michael and Fi were acting,
well, awfully normal. And not just normal for them, but normal for almost
anyone.

"Nah." They were still sleeping a lot. Michael was
starting to feel more or less human again, but he was still averaging a good ten
to twelve hours a night. And he was figuring that wasn't likely to change for
at least a month or two more.

Fi was sleeping right next to him, and getting the
occasional afternoon nap as well.

He wasn't worried about it. They aren't kids anymore, and
they don't bounce back as quickly as they did back in their thirties, let alone
twenties.

And, lots of sleep aside, Michael felt like he could get
used to this new schedule. Sleep in, exercise, make breakfast, eat, work on the
house a bit, work on whatever the job is a bit, meander down to Carlito's for
lunch, eat some more, meet up with Sam and or Jesse, see his mom maybe or go to
the beach, work some more, nap, get or make dinner, have sex, and sleep some
more.

Quiet decompressing was a good thing. Something they both
needed and deserved after the last five years.

The downside of all the eating and sleeping was they were
both getting a little plump.

The next morning, Michael was working with the punching bag,
hitting, kicking, body blocking, while Fi went through her yoga moves.

"It's probably time we do better about eating,"
she said, shifting into down facing dog, looking at him from under a spill of
hair.

He looked at his stomach and reminded himself to do an extra
fifty sit ups. He's sure he's never going to look like Sam, but he doesn't want
to end up pudgy, either. Yeah, he's not twenty-five anymore or, for that
matter, forty-five, but that's no excuse to go soft. "Probably not a bad
idea." He could see her looking at her own body.

"I'm getting fat."

"Like hell you are." So, yeah, Fi had gained a
little weight. But first off she was at least ten pounds under weight to begin
with. And second of all, as he stared at her, in a tank top, no bra, and a pair
of cut off sweat pants, from everything he could see every ounce she had gained
was in exactly the right places.

Twenty-four-year-olds with big, fake tits might bore Michael
to tears. However, a forty-three-year-old with nicely plump real ones appealed
to him very, very much.

Which he proceeded to show her, with extreme attention to
detail, instead of doing those fifty extra sit-ups.

**************

On Wednesday Sam called with a job.

Evan, Elsa's son, was trying to help a friend, and it turned
out he just didn't know what to do or how to help. The friend, Jaime, got in
some bad trouble with some worse people, and Evan tried to pull his own Sam Axe
gig to get the friend free.

It failed miserably.

So he went to Sam, who he figured would be pretty good at
pulling a Sam Axe. And Sam, sitting there, listening to Evan, knew that this
was a more than one, or two for that matter, man job. So he called in Mike and
Fi.

That job took three days, because while dealing with a
collection of rave-running, designer-drug-selling party kids with guns was
beyond Evan, it wasn't beyond Fi, Mike, and Sam.

And then they ran into a snag. They needed at least two
people to go in, and well... Okay, Mike's forty-six, and Sam is fifty-eight.
And while a beautiful woman is welcome more or less anywhere, Mike and Sam are
going to stick out at a rave like... well, like a rave kid at a black-tie
charity auction.So, Jesse got called
in, and he was more than willing to help.

Fi liked it because she got to dress up, go to fun clubs,
and make about two hundred teeny-boppers fall in love with her.

Jesse liked it because he actually does enjoy raves, though
it's not anything he's ever going to mention to the other three.

Sam enjoyed it because he made Elsa very happy. He was also
pleased to see Evan try to do the right thing. Sure, he didn't know how to do
the right thing, but trying was a good first start. He even spent a few minutes
talking to Evan about how, since he seemed to be interested in blowing things
up, doing things with his hands, and helping people, he might want to try the
military. And shock of shocks, Evan didn't completely blow him off.

And Michael enjoyed it because all of his favorite people had a good time, no one got hurt, it paid well, and all he had to do was plan while putting furniture together with Sam.